Silence in Between
by lontanissima
Summary: Ficlet of 2 follow ups to the episodes "Four of a kind" (4x11) and "Balckout" (4x12). First story is a little something that takes place right after the last moment in the murder room and before the beautiful breakfast scene. The second one, take place after the episode ends.
1. Silence in Between

_This story is an add on to the episode "Four of a kind" (4x11). A little something that takes place right after the last moment in the murder room and before the beautiful breakfast scene. My muse didn't really let them go to bed right away ;)_

 _Bug thanks go to_ **Robin** _and amazing_ **Kate04us** _who helped me with it. All mistakes are mine but not the characters with those I only play._

 _The cover is made by_ **Kate** _as well. Thank You dear._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Everything hurt.

There was not a part of Andy Flynn's body that was not throbbing, aching, or pulling. With every movement, even the slightest one, the pain spread through him without mercy leaving him defeated. Even something as involuntary and natural as breathing resulted in immense fatigue.

Andy blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the soft light beaming from the lamp on the nightstand that someone had left on for him. His eyelids felt heavy and it cost him every last bit of energy he still possessed to keep them open. He felt disoriented. The unfamiliar surroundings made him question his sanity for a split second. He gazed around the room and it took him a long moment to understand where he actually was. He had only been in this room a few times before. He recognized the artful chair in the corner and the painting that caught his attention right away. Maybe he wasn't really an art expert or anything, but it was hard to forget the colorful display of affection between two people portrayed on it. He was sure it was Sharon's choice. She had an impeccable sense of style. He loved that about her and it was one of the qualities that kept him so enthralled with her.

Andy turned his head and tried to focus his attention on a framed photo of Rusty with his cranky partner. For a brief moment he wondered how many problems they all would have to face because he was occupying this room. The kid, he thought for sure, would have issues with it. Whatever the issues would be, he decided, he would face them, hopefully with Sharon by his side.

His throat felt dry and it was getting harder and harder to swallow. A bitter taste in his mouth made him grimace. Andy would kill for some cranberry and soda just now, to mask the tang at least. His head was pounding, more like hammering, through his scalp with an awful intensity. _So this was hell_ , he mused. Thankfully, on the nightstand there was a glass of water and some Tylenol. They did little to cover the pain, but they were all he'd allow himself to take. At least, he thought they will take the edge off.

The last hours were a blur of jumbled images. His brain was clouded with pain and he couldn't really remember what had happened, and most of all, how he had ended up in this very bed. The last thing he could recall was Sharon's breathless voice telling him over and over in gentle tones " _It's going to be okay. Breath,"_ as his knees buckled underneath him. He had leaned on her for support, hoping not to find himself on the ground again. Once during the day was more than enough, even for him. She had settled him into a chair in her office, her hand slowly caressing his bruised skin as they waited together for the paramedics. He remembered the sound of her softly whispered words of encouragement. He was sure he had heard Provenza calling him _idiot_ here and there, but not much more. He must have passed out a little after the paramedics or a doctor had checked on him and cleared him to go home. The ride to her condo was also ripped from his memory. Sharon had said earlier in the day that they would get him _home,_ but he hadn't imagined he would find himself at her place. He had a brief recollection, like seeing through a foggy cloud, of the elevator ride, his back pressed against the cold wall and strong, male arms around his waist keeping him upright. He wasn't even sure if it had been Buzz or Julio. Damn, he wished that this mind of his would at least help him out a little, so he would know who had changed him from his work suit into a soft gray shirt and baggy, comfortable pants.

Not knowing was disconcerting, at best.

Andy tried to sit up, but a sharp pain roared through his body with intensity, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He groaned loudly in protest at this awful misfortune that he was enduring. He didn't want to be a burden to anyone. He could take care of himself. It wasn't the first time his body had throbbed in agony and he had made it through just fine. How could Provenza have let this happen? Why had he allowed him to be here? As soon as he got better he would kick the old fart's ass for letting Sharon take him to her home. The last thing he needed was to be her patient. It was his pride talking, yes. However, accepting help was not something Andy did easily, not when he had so little power over his own body and the resulting frustrations. He would not be his cheerful self, and controlling his responses all the time around her and the kid would be too damn hard. There was a fear in the back of his mind that he might lose her over this. They were being forced into this situation, and if he let her _see_ him in this foul mood, grumpy because his body wasn't healing as fast as before, she might actually change her mind and cut his sorry ass loose. He wasn't a young man anymore. Even on a good day his back would ache, his knees would pop and his neck would sting, but this was another level of pain. Of course they weren't delusional about their age, but somehow the mere thought of her actually witnessing his struggles made him cringe.

This truly sucked.

Andy tired to find out what time it was. Everything seemed so timeless. The painkillers he had taken a moment ago hadn't kicked in yet, and it was hard for him to focus. His mind was floating, his body was heavily anchored to the bed. This current situation was a conundrum, the feeling was like being suspended in midair while being bolted to the surface of the bed at the same time. It didn't make any sense. From what he gathered, it was the middle of the night, but it couldn't be that late. He noticed the hallway light through the door, which someone had left the standing slightly ajar. He was sure it was in case he needed help. She'd thought of everything, and somehow that notion made him even more agitated.

This was harder than he expected.

Here, alone with his thoughts, the dark shadows weren't allowing him to find any peace. His mind kept overthinking, running around in circles of frustrating emotions, each bringing more and more gloom to his spirit. This was never how he imagined his sleeping at her place for the first time would be. He closed his eyes and tried, with more force this time, to get up.

As soon as he braced himself with his elbows on the mattress and attempted to lift his torso, his cracked ribs reminded him what state his body was actually in. Andy swore underneath his breath as the surge of agony overtook him once more. This time the sting of tears started to form in the corners of his eyes and he fought to hold them back. _Son of a bitch._

His breathing became labored. He needed to calm it fast before a new wave of pain would overwhelm him.

A soft knock on the door caught his attention. The door opened slowly with a quiet squeak. The sound assaulted his ears making him more on edge. Andy decided that as soon as he was out of this bed, he would oil the door and maybe do some other little things around the house. He remembered now that she had been talking the past few months about putting up new shelves in the living room, but she hadn't found the time for it. Yes, once he was out of this bed, he could at least do that for her.

With some hesitation Sharon let herself into the room.

When he saw her, his eyes finally found focused on the beautiful vision that she was. Something he could hold onto, a focal point that would stop the room for spinning and aid the dizziness in passing quickly. Even clad in a simple t-shirt, which he had no doubt was his, and black yoga pants, her hair pulled loosely up on the sides, and with a huge pillow hugged to her chest, she looked simply gorgeous.

"Oh, you're awake," she said with a hint of surprise, gently closing the door behind her. Her back leaned against the wooden surface as her eyes carefully scanned him. He looked pale, his usual rosy color was gone. His typically warm eyes seemed glassy and unfocused. She noticed droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and was sure that if she touched him, his skin would feel clammy.

"Barley," he husked out on a long breath, regaining some control. He kept his eyes on her, afraid that she might disappear if he closed them even for a blink. There was a certain vulnerability written on her features. She worried at her nails, her fingers nervously caressing the pillow, as she silently regarded him.

"Can I get you anything?" The question left her mouth so quickly and so suddenly, it seemed as if her mind had come up with those words automatically the second she had seen him lying helplessly in bed. The thought that she would be asking him this many times in the days to come was making him feel self-conscious, apprehensive. He never wanted her to see him as someone needy and weak.

"No." he said curtly. Upon seeing her reaction, her teeth biting her lower lip and her chin resting on the pillow, as though hiding behind it, he followed up with a quiet, "thank you."

The air in the room shifted. It felt heavy and uncertain. They remained motionless, just staring, eyes speaking to each other with the words that died in the silence. It suddenly felt uncomfortable, the situation itself almost on the edge of becoming bizarre. Usually the communication between them flowed easily. They had found a way to be heard by one another, to share not only silly jokes and disarmingly sweet words, but they had started to learn how to voice real issues and concerns, how to discuss them without worrying about being misunderstood. There was a balance they had created and were working hard to maintain. Would this new situation make them lose their precious equilibrium? They were in need of a long talk, and maybe even a shouting match to release all the emotions of the past hours, all the fears and doubts that the day had brought upon them.

As far as Sharon was concerned, she would never let him be alone in this state, and for that she would not apologize. There was also a feeling inside her that tugged at her heart, the need to have him close, to see him getting better, to be helpful and to be able to act. At least in this way, she was capable of doing something, of helping him, and the part of her that always needed to be in control of every situation was satisfied. Regardless, she could sense that he was wary of her. She knew it would not be easy, but her determination to do right by him was paramount. Andy deserved that much.

"You couldn't sleep?" he asked, his tone soft in an effort to reach out through the cloud of awkwardness.

She diverted her eyes from him and looked at the pillow, feeling oddly embarrassed, as though she'd been caught doing something incorrect. "Not really, I wanted to bring you this." Her fingers caressed the soft, purple material of the pillowcase, fisting it at the corner. Her eyes slowly moved back to him, and she eyed him over the rim of her glasses. She didn't really know what to expect.

"You didn't have to." Again he was more harsh than he'd intended to be with his answer, but he was finding it hard to keep control when the pain left him unable to move, to breath, to think straight, all of it adding more and more frustration.

"I wanted to, Andy." She was being careful with her words but she gave him a warm smile, trying to ease his temper as best she could. "I want you to be comfortable." The softness of her voice was calm and tender.

Earlier in the day, when she hadn't seen him return with the squad, when she'd heard he was hurt and no one had been telling her the truth, her mind had gone right into the trap of oppressing dread. For a few seconds she had felt anxiety building up in the pit of her stomach. It had clenched so tightly that she'd had problems thinking clearly. Her second in command had not really been reassuring with his words, but he had appealed to her logic. They'd had a job to do and the sooner they solved the case the sooner she would know the truth about everything that had happened. She had decided to trust him. Although in order to function, she had put on the brave front, a front that helped her keep her emotions in check, a front that kept her head clear, a front that she had worn time and again throughout her whole work life. It was her own armor. And yet, in this small room, inside her home, under the eyes of the man that was becoming more and more dear to her heart, that very armor started to crumble underneath the weight of her own feelings.

Silence once again surrounded them as they calculated all the actions and reactions, everything still unspoken.

"C'mere," it was Andy who broke the stillness, extending his arm toward her, offering his hand palm up, to be taken.

She didn't hesitate. With few steps she was by his side. She slowly slid her fingers over the delicate skin of his palm. His hand was reassuringly warm as they laced their fingers together. It was a tight grip. A contact, skin to skin, that granted them some stability.

The pillow had slipped out of her arms and lay at end of the bed near his feet, forgotten for the moment. She breathed with him, affected by his shallow breaths, understanding that expanding his lungs too much caused him pain. She mimicked it involuntarily, tiny intakes of air went through her nose, feeling more and more connected to him. The distance that the discomfort of the situation had created was getting smaller and smaller. She wanted to touch his face, finally being able to do so without the restraint of her office. She wanted to caress the beaten flesh with her fingertips, with her lips.

" _Andy_ ," she stared to speak, but her voice hitched and hid inside her throat. With him now so close, all her thoughts and fears overwhelmed her. Her eyes burned with the sting of the unshed tears that she desperately tried to keep from falling. She looked away from him, trying to find the strength to compose herself.

He watched her, as she bit her lip harder and tightened her grip on his hand. She was fighting the battle against overwhelming emotions. This was exactly what he had been trying to shelter her from. All he could do now was to try to put her mind at ease.

"I'm very comfortable here. Why don't you sit down with me for minute?" He tugged at her hand and she obliged. She looked frantic to him. He wanted to calm her down. They both needed a moment just to be together.

"Yes."

Sharon sat on the edge of the bed, one leg curled beneath her with her knee lightly nudging his leg. At this contact with him, her hand immediately touched his thigh, creating a deeper connection between their bodies. He smiled at her, his eyes more vivid then before. While stroking his leg, her hand met with the abandoned pillow. It had been the reason, or rather, the excuse she had used to check on him and to be by his side, even if he had been asleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed, trying to find a moment of peace, hoping sleep would claim her at some point, and yet every time she had closed her eyes she had seen and felt him crumble in her arms. The images that kept playing on a constant loop in her mind had driven her from her bed. She needed to assure herself that he was safe.

She took the pillow in her hands, and once again hid her face in it. Andy watched as she leaned over him, but stopped a mere inch from his torso. Wordlessly, she asked if she could place the pillow under his head. Understanding, he nodded and with a little effort she eased it behind him, whispering "there you go," in his ear.

The second Andy's head hit the pillow he was enveloped by her scent. The fresh fragrance of her perfume lingering on the soft purple material relaxed his senses instantly. He closed his eyes with a contented smile, letting himself be surrounded by her. Finally, he felt tranquil. Her presence was like a balm that apparently he needed to soothe his annoyance. With his heart beating at a steady pace, Andy worked up the courage to ask her the question that had been echoing in his mind since he'd opened his eyes.

"Why am I here?" His words were pronounced carefully, he didn't want to offend her hospitality or upset her, but he needed to know.

"Where else would you be?" she asked, astonished.

"I don't know, at home maybe."

"You are at home, Andy."

" _Sharon_." Her name slipped like a groan from his lips. She was being purposely stubborn in her responses.

"Did you honestly think I would let you be alone?" The question went unanswered, so she continued. "Andy, you know better than that. Just think about it. If it was me in your condition, would you let me be alone?"

"No, and don't even go there." Her words had visibly rattled him.

"I know," she cut him off using a softer tone, trying to regain control over this conversation before it could escalate. "I understand, trust me. But you are here, and you are staying here." She was determined to let this idea sink into his thick skull. His lack of an answer caused another silent moment between them. She could see in his expression that he was considering her words. Probably imaging what she left unsaid. His brow had drawn tight and his eyes were squinted. Sharon wasn't sure if it was the result of the images their conversation had invoked or if his body was overtaken by another wave of raw pain. However, he was holding back. There was no sound forthcoming, not a hiss or a swear and in some somber way it affected her. Her instincts told her to get up, bring him something, maybe another glass of water or a pill, to just _do_ something. She tried to get her hand out of his, but his fingers held tight, not wanting for her to slip away. He was not ready to let her go.

She looked at him one more time and realized that he needed something else from her, something that no object or word could provide. His eyes were shut, his breathing becoming labored. He was fighting everything at once. Sharon knew how to calm him, she had learned a long time ago, that a touch and more recently, a kiss would disarm his temper in a second. She wasn't oblivious to the effect she had on him, but it was easier, for both, to leave it unspoken. Now she moved to lie on her side, stretching her legs near his, while propping her head on her bent arm and hand. She freed her hand from his grasp and snuggled her body even closer to his, but being careful not to touch his injured side.

With her fingertips she outlined his face. Her fingers tracing the hard lines of his forehead, lightly touching the beaten, reddened skin. She slowly caressed his cheekbone and the area near it, feeling the stubble that had started to form at this late hour. Her fingers slid down his nose, applying slight pressure at it bridge to ease the headache she was sure he had. She tapped ever so gently the tip of his nose and saw the beginning of a faint smile on his lips. With her thumb she traced his bottom lip and received a light kiss to it in return. She moved to his jaw, tracing the strong bone and caressing his chin, scratching the barely visible scar there. His breathing changed, and it brought some comfort to her. When her fingers grazed the shell of his ear, he moved a little, giving her more access, enjoying the attention. She leaned her head forward and placed a kiss on the corner of his eye.

"Don't hide from me," she whispered into his ear, her humid breath teasing the sensitive skin of his neck.

"I'm not," he argued, opening his eyes and shifting his head so they could look at each other while speaking and breathing the same air.

"Yes, you are. You are stubborn, you are hiding."

"I'm fine," he lied.

"You asked the squad and Provenza to cover for you." It had bothered her, the fact that they didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth about his well being.

"I know." Andy sighed, a bit resigned, his body tensing, "but at least you were able to focus and you finished the job." He would not apologize for his choice. The squad had his back, and yes, he was sure she was a little mad and maybe even hurt, but he had done it to protect her, so she could finish everything without worrying about him. He never wanted her to have to choose between him and her job.

"I don't care about the murder, or arrests, or suspects. I told you this already. You were injured, in the hospital. Provenza said it was scratches, but it's so much more than that. When you didn't come back with them today, it scared me, Andy." Her confession was honest and genuine. She was trying to make him understand what really mattered to her, and he mattered, deeply. "We are not those people anymore, the ones that lie and hide. We are better than that."

"No, we are not. You are right about that, but Sharon," his voice lowered so much that it seemed humanly impossible for her to hear his next words, "I don't want to be a bother."

"Andy," she was exasperated by him, "stop this. You are staying. I don't want to argue about this. It's decided."

"But..." he started but once again she cut him off, this time with a lingering kiss to his parted mouth. He didn't mind. This was one strong argument on her behalf.

"Tell you what, let's make a deal. If you are able to get up from this bed, without wincing, groaning and sweating, and dress yourself the same way, you are free to leave." She was challenging him, a wicked smile on her face. She even shifted her body from his to give him more room to maneuver.

Andy watched her for a moment and decided to call her bluff. He braced himself on the bed, but the second he bent at the waist his grimaced expression gave him away.

"Thought so," she said triumphantly placing a hand on his chest, easing him down on the bed again. She snuggled closer to him and slid her fingers through his hair, silently rewarding him for the effort. "Let me do this for you. For us."

He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for signs of pity or hesitation, but he found only warmth and care.

"Okay," he agreed.

They lay like that for a while longer, her fingers combing through his hair, messing with the locks. He didn't mind, not in the slightest. It gave him time to take a moment and observe her. Her makeup was gone, and the lines of tiredness were very visible on her face. He wished he could kiss all the pain away from her too.

"I like your hair this way."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Lieutenant. I'm still mad." And that she was. They might have to address the issue once again someday, so the next time, he would think twice before hiding things like that from her.

"I know."

With some effort he moved his hand and tugged her more firmly against his body. She went willingly, resting her head on his shoulder and placing one hand over his heart. She counted his heartbeats and waited till he fell asleep. They were so new at this. They'd tried to very slowly build their relationship, allowing for the intimacy to come in a natural way. She wasn't really ready to bring it to her bedroom yet. The feeling she had for this wonderful man that lay near her were getting stronger and stronger. He managed to break the thick walls she had build around herself in order to protect herself. He was such a dear friend, that sometimes she was sure, if he went away, if he actually left her, her heart and soul would never be the same again. And before she would give him such a power over her, before she would allow him to hold her naked body, her bare unprotected heart, and own her soul, Sharon needed time, because going back to the way they were before would be absolutely impossible. And then there was Rusty, who still was very slow to adjust to the changes in his mother's life.

Now, however, Sharon would gladly have him in her own bed. Sleeping by his side for the first time was a desire she had played with in her mind for a while. The fantasy of it always left her with a warm feeling in her belly, with heat spreading through her, leaving her inflamed. It would have been so easy to locate him in her bedroom tonight, which had been her intention.

Although when she had called Rusty earlier today and told him what had happened to Andy, explaining the severity of his injuries and that she had decided that Andy would stay with them for some time, the first thing that had come out of her boy's mouth had been the offer of his room to Andy. It was a sweet gesture, which she had never expected. And yet, Rusty had surprised her. Furthermore he had spent some time asking about Andy's heath, wanting to be reassured that he would be fine. She also knew Rusty had called Provenza to gather more information about the whole accident. Even if the boy had shown some signs of mistrust towards Andy and their relationship, he wasn't made of stone. He was affected by this like everyone else and with his offer he wanted to show that he cared for Andy. She was proud of him and hadn't had it in her to say no to his offer. She had arranged for Buzz to take Andy into his room. Rusty had been waiting there already and had prepared everything. He had taken all the stuff he needed for the next day out, and they had settled Andy to rest there.

His hands were wandering on her back, and Sharon started to suspected that her presence in this bed, as calming as it was, provided too much of a distraction when they were both in need of some rest.

"I should go to bed," she said quietly, but not making any effort to get out of his very light embrace.

"You are in bed."

"I mean, to _my_ bed."

"Well... this is your house, so that makes this your room, and that makes this your bed, too."

She hummed gently, considering his words with amusement. She moved to get up, but he wouldn't let her, again, his fingers held hers firmly.

"Five more minutes," he said sleepily, already drifting off from all the exhaustion.

She could give him that. Five more minutes, or five more hours, days, months, and at this rate she allowed herself to wish for more years with him by her side. Just there, in his arms, after a scary day like this one, she felt safe, she felt warm, she felt hope. Sharon shifted a little and got under the covers with him. His warmth brought her peace. His scent brought her serenity.

"Okay," she answered to let him know she was there, before she, too, let sleep claim her, leaving the silence to linger between them for the rest of the night.

Between every word, there was a silence. Between every kiss, there was a silence. Between every breath, there was a silence. Between every heartbeat, there was a silence. On this new path that life had thrown at them Sharon and Andy would try to navigate as best as they could, blending the silence in between.

* * *

 _Thank You._

 _I will leave this story marked as in-progress. My muse come up with the idea for the next epi as well. We will see how that will go ;)_

 _hugs and Thank You again._


	2. The Laws of Physics

**Happy Birthday Isolith!**

 _As promised, here is the second add on to the winter episodes, I apologize that it took me so long to write it and post it. This one is regarding the episode 4x12 "Blackout". This story stands alone, same way as Silence in Between does._

 _I want to thank my beta **Kate Rosen** and few close friends that helped me out with it. You were all wonderful, thank you all so very much._

 _All mistakes are mine but not the character, with those I only play._

 _The rating is strong T - I tried... but couldn't really censure Andy Flynn :)_

 _Hope y'all will enjoy._

* * *

"The Laws of Physics"

Never in her recent memory had Sharon Raydor been so glad to be arriving home. The last three days had passed in a quick haze and yet, done more damage than she could have ever imagined. Sitting in her car in the dim light of her condo's parking garage, Sharon took a deep breath and finally let the exhaustion wash over her.

Before she made any movement to get out of her vehicle, she surveyed her reflection in the rear view mirror. The face that stared back at her made her cringe. Smudged mascara exacerbated the dark circles underneath her tired eyes. Her lipstick had long since worn off, revealing a pale top lip and a bright red bottom one, which her teeth had been abusing all afternoon. Even her hair was flat and lifeless. Maybe she should have taken Andy's advice in keeping it up for one more day. Apparently he really had liked that hairdo and had no problem in letting her know about it. The mere thought of him and his bold, yet discrete ways of displaying his admiration towards her, filled her with some much needed affection. Since they started living together, his compliments came more frequently. She still had to get used to his frank flattery, but she relished in it with sinful pleasure. Now, she secretly longed for his devious look filled with a mix of lust and appreciation. She felt the heat of his gaze while his eyes scanned slowly over her body when he thought she didn't notice, and then he would hotly whisper how stunning she was, and even gave her suggestions of his favorite colors. That man was a treasure she was determined to keep. Perhaps it was her vanity, but she really didn't want him to see her in this unkempt state.

Simply, she was exhausted.

There were days when her feet were almost dragging with fatigue, heavy, like two concrete pillars, barely sustaining her tired body. On days like that, when the physical exhaustion took over, she always debated with herself if it be acceptable to just take off her heels and walk barefoot through the parking lot of her garage. The thought had always been so appealing, just to take the damn shoes off and stretch her feet back and forth, flexing the toes and bring herself some much needed relief. Sometimes she really thought she could indulge herself but then walking down on the dirty, cold surface, as wonderful as it sounded and as wonderful as it could have felt to her, it wasn't exactly how she wanted to be caught on the cameras of her building.

And then there were days and nights, when her mind was so exhausted that whatever thought came across it had the effect of a sharp and lethal bullet. Nothing felt right in those moments. Everything was heavy and dark. She hated it, oh so much. When the logic was gone, when there was no rest for her. When all the images played on and on in a loop showing her how ugly and gruesome life was. When the situations she and her team were put in were so dangerous that she lived and breathed on adrenaline's high for hours to come. Regardless, the worst part during those days were the moments when the rush started to wear off, her hands shook if she opened her fisted palms, and she desperately needed silence to settle in and make her mind go blank with exhaustion.

Nonetheless, this wasn't what she saw in the mirror and felt in her heart tonight.

On days like this, which started with curiosity and determination but quickly spiraled into oppression and bad feelings that she couldn't quite pinpoint or grasp. When the worry for a loved one kept her a little distracted and a lot preoccupied, and most of all, when her past barged into her work place with arrogance and annoyance, and once again hurt a person so dear to her heart, on days like this Sharon was brought to the point of emotional exhaustion.

And what a hellish few days it had been.

Three days ago, very early in the morning, Sharon received a call from Andrea regarding a case she was arguing. The request had been very simple, " _Sharon, I need your help_ " and there had been no hesitation at all in her commitment to do everything in her power to assist her trusted colleague whom she'd recently begun to call a friend. Frankly, Sharon felt a bit guilty. She could only imagine how Andrea's patience was being tested where Rusty was concerned. As much as Sharon was proud of him and his new passion for journalism, she knew that he was making Andrea's job difficult and could understand if recently he was causing her more than one headache. Sharon appreciated it, deeply. Unfortunately, they couldn't really talk about it. She couldn't send her a basket of fruit or even a few bottles of fine wine from Napa. And _thank you_ dinners where out of the question, as well. She had been asked not to cause any interference, and as hard as it was for her to do, Sharon was keeping her promise. However, there was still part of her that felt like she owed Andrea. So that morning, when the call came, she didn't ask questions, just a simple _where and when_ , and Sharon was out of the door before she could even greet Andy and Rusty. She left them a quick note on the kitchen counter near the coffee machine. A place she knew both of them would visit at some point in the morning.

Looking back, maybe Sharon should have asked more questions about the case, or rather about whom Andrea was arguing against. It came to her as a bit of a surprise to see Jack in court. Listening to him argue on behalf of a drunk father, husband, and suspected killer was ironic to say the least. Jack had probably been rehearsing for that moment all his life, at least for the duration of their marriage. How many times had she heard him come up with excuses for a late night party at the bar, or another poker game that he was participating in? How many times had he come home drunk, reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume? And worst of all, how many times had she gotten up in the middle of the night, leaving her sleeping kids with a neighbor to pick him up, because his buddies were in the same state and he was so drunk that he couldn't even tell the taxi driver their home address? More than half of LA's bars had her home phone number. She had lost count of those times so long ago. Even if it was all in the past, and she had made peace with it already, it didn't stop the memories from continuing to affect her.

To this day, Jackson Raydor never failed to irritate the hell out of her.

With an audible sigh, Sharon shook her head to dispel the memory and, grabbing her purse from the passenger seat of her car, she began to search for the little bag that contained her cosmetics. If she was going to have a pity party, at least she could make herself look presentable for the two men that currently shared her life and home. She didn't want Andy or Rusty to see her like this. If Andy was going to compliment her, she wanted to give him a plausible reason for it. However she wasn't really ready to explain the reason for her state of distress, at least not to Rusty anyway. Reapplying her makeup was her way of hiding the unpleasant feelings that she still had brewing against Jack.

When she felt satisfied with the results of her quick touch up, she got out of the car and made her way to the condo. She was well aware that she would have to talk with Andy about what had happened in the murder room today, even though she didn't really want to. A hot spell of anger spread up her spine leaving her body itchy with rage. She was so furious with Jack for the confusion he had caused with his last moments in the murder room. How dare he bring up Andy's health issues in such a viscous way? They were none of his business. It was just his pathetic attempt to get revenge for their gloating over his lost case. If anything, her entire division had once again witnessed what a jerk he was.

Wherever Jack went, he left chaos in his wake.

Sharon had always had a problem with the concept of chaos and this pesky thing called entropy. In terms of the laws of physics, it's the way for a system to reach its perfect state through increased disorder. She never could quite grasp the concept of it, disorder as perfection. How was it possible that by amplifying disarray and chaos one could achieve perfection, something which she had aimed for her entire adult life? Jackson was chaos personified, and he was everything but perfect and yet, in her youth she was so attracted to his constantly vibrant energy and charisma. But where had it gotten her?

Loving Jack hadn't been easy, but Sharon had thought that if she fought hard enough for their marriage, she would be rewarded. She was taught that giving up on sacred sacraments was a sin, so she struggled and fought hard to love him. She thought that the constant pain and the constant need to reevaluate herself would bring her to the point of deserving his love. She hoped that devotion and care would be a recompense for all the hurt she had endured. Instead, what she had received in return was more harm, heartache and two children who kept asking for their daddy. So she had shielded herself and her small kids from his damaging chaos.

She only hoped that heaven would forgive her, and hell would at least understand.

The chaos of her personal life was the reason why Sharon surrounded herself with rules and laws. Her need to be in control of every situation was very much satisfied by following them closely. As a result, she was able to restore some semblance of order in her life. Mainly, she found order in the silence of prayer, inside of quiet churches where she could find some much needed peace. She found it in the 72-hour reporting cycles, where everything had to be done strictly by the rulebook. That same _rulebook_ that she had helped to improve herself. She found it in the structure of the courtroom, where many of her cases ended up. She was even promoted to her current division because she was needed to restore order there. However, all it took was one visit from her ex-husband for pandemonium to ensue. That frustrated her to the core.

Sharon opened the door and quietly eased herself into the condo not wanting to disturb her two men from whatever they were doing. To her surprise, the living room lights were off, which was quite unusual. Rusty never remembered to turn them off and she had noticed that Andy liked to have at least one small lamp lit at all times. She didn't mind, though. He was still getting used to her home, and it wasn't a large space, so tripping over something wasn't that difficult. The last thing that she wanted was for him to harm himself further.

She took off her shoes and placed her coat and purse on their usual hook. Before she could start the search for her two housemates, she heard the familiar footsteps of her son, coming from the direction of his room, a room which he had so unselfishly offered to Andy while he recovered.

"Good, you are home," Rusty said as he grabbed his coat and started to put it on.

"You are leaving?" she asked, a bit concerned. He never rushed out of the house the second she placed her foot in. She needed to make sure he was okay after his meeting with Slider.

"Yeah. Sorry, I need to go down to library. I never imagined the workload would be so heavy at this new school. I mean, I just started and I feel like I'm already 3 years behind... there are books to read, papers to write, articles to research, and so many others things that I don't even know how to..." he stopped his nervous rambling when Sharon placed her hands on his shoulders and without words just took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact with her son. It took him only a heartbeat to imitate her breathing. Rusty took a deep calming breath with her, and then another one before he stepped out of her space. Calm and recharged, he silently thanked her with a shy smile on his lips.

This little breathing exercise was their secret tradition, which had started after the Weller ordeal and then Stroh's escape. When panic and overwhelming thoughts started to trap one or both of them inside, they took a minute to stop and breathe in unison. Connecting like this helped to ease any scenario that caused sudden anxiety.

"Okay, just don't stay out too late. If something changes, please text me." Sharon touched his arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Yes, _Mom_ ," he answered with pretended annoyance. With his coat on, he reached for his backpack. He could sense that she was a little bit distracted, her eyes scanning the room in search of the Lieutenant. "He's sitting on the balcony," Rusty told her in a quiet voice, "he's been out there since he came back from the doctor's appointments

"Has he been out there all evening?" She was concerned. It wasn't a warm night, and he must be cold by now. Also, she remembered the doctor's orders for him to rest as much as possible. Sitting on the small chair on her balcony was not really the kind of rest that the doctor ordered. She would make sure to remind him of that.

"Yeah, kinda. Patrice waited with him till I got home. When she was leaving she gave me a strange look."

"What do you mean by strange?" she asked in a haze.

"I don't know. I think it could have to do with his mood. He was very quiet, only asked a few questions when I got home and went out on the balcony right after." Rusty finally took a moment to fully observe Sharon. She appeared spent and tired. "Did something happen today?"

Sharon smiled sadly at her son, trying to assure him that everything was fine, but she knew he could always sense her moods, and fooling him was never as easy as it was with Emily and Ricky. "You could say that Jack happened."

"Ah." It was the only reasonable response he could give her. He had stopped caring for Jack a while ago, and after last Christmas when the man showed up drunk and made a mess of everything, the less he knew about him, the better he felt.

"Don't worry about it. It's not an issue. Go to the library. Read. Study. We will be home." This time her smile was warm and full of encouragement. "I'm going to check on Andy, and make sure he doesn't fall asleep on the balcony."

"Oh, no, we don't want that." Rusty joked and reached for the doorknob. He bid a last goodbye and quietly left the condo.

Sharon let out a small sigh, feeling a little better after their breathing exercise. The annoyance was still there, but she was somewhat calmer and more determined. She took a moment to consider what to do. Normally she would go straight to her room and change, even take a quick shower before starting to make dinner with a glass of white wine in her hand. With Andy living in the condo, however, a lot of her small habits had changed, not that she minded. It was a normal turn of events. They were getting used to navigating each other's presence and space. It was still a novel feeling, to have someone to come home to, other than her child. To come home to a man with whom she could talk about the events of the day without much need for explanation. Or to simply sit in silence, blocking out the outside world, holding hands and just _being_. She would change later, she decided. The need to see him and to talk to him was hard to suppress now that he was so close by.

Sharon turned on one small lamp that lit the living room weakly. With a slow pace she approached the balcony. When he came into her sight, she let out a barely audible gasp. Even with his back to her, she could perceive how intensely bothered he was. His posture was rigid. His shoulders were slumped and curved as if burdened by a huge weight. He was leaning forward in the chair and his head was bent, with one hand gripping tightly onto the small table next to him. His hair was ruffled, the effect of having passed his hand through it one time too many. He seemed so defeated.

Her first instinct was to open the door, and rush to his side, to touch him, talk to him, and reassure him. She couldn't do any of that, however, at least not the way she really wanted to. Andy had been avoiding physical contact with her and it had its effect. Of course she didn't want to hurt him, but Sharon missed getting lost in his arms, in his strong and tight embrace. Sadly, she felt that in the last few days they had created an invisible space between them. The lack of time, touch and gentle intimacy weighed heavily upon them. It seemed ironic that they lived together now, but with the ongoing case and all of his appointments, they hadn't really spent much time with one another. The worry for his health was corrosive. He didn't want to talk about it, and he brushed off all of her concerns with a smile or a shrug. Deep down she knew that it was hard for him to adjust to this new situation. Andy needed time to process and heal, time that Jack made sure he wouldn't have.

Seeing him like this was hard enough. He was distant, and she didn't really know how to approach this situation without overstepping their new boundaries. She often let the silence between them linger. She was sure of one thing, though, if he was sitting outside for this long, he should be very cold by now. She could bring him a blanket, but knowing his pride, he would probably roll his eyes at her and categorically refuse her offer. Tea would do the trick, she thought. It always did when one of them needed to talk, when they wanted to be alone with each other, especially at the office at the end of the day. Their teatime was known to everyone. There was no reason to break the tradition now.

A few minutes later, with two steaming mugs in her hands, she opened the sliding door with her elbow. At the sound of her footsteps, Andy titled his head and their eyes meet. What she saw in the depths of his eyes made her heart clench and her stomach twist with worry. His typically warm, bright eyes were clouded with a hint of sadness. His face was paler than usual, and he was wearing a hard expression. His shirt was wrinkled perhaps from being buttoned and unbuttoned throughout all the checkups he'd had today. His tie had been discarded and carelessly placed on the table. Sharon greeted him with a faint smile as she put both mugs down.

"You made tea," he stated the obvious, but embraced the meaning of her gesture.

"We haven't had one of our teatimes in awhile. I thought we were due."

"Thank you," he said softly, diverting his eyes from hers. He took a sip of the warm, amber liquid, and it tasted like heaven. Until the hot tea spread through his body and hit his belly, Andy hadn't realized how cold he actually was. His body shuddered at the sensation and grew warmer instantly. He watched her, as she was getting comfortable in her chair, _that woman_ always knew how to make him feel even a little better, by anticipating his unspoken needs, and not expecting anything in return.

"How was your day?" he asked, taking another sip of his tea.

"Exhausting, how was yours?"

"Frustrating. But you closed the case and prevented a new law suit."

"Yes." She couldn't deny that it still felt good to be able to defeat her ex-husband and protect the city from another case with long, legal implications. She didn't really want to start talking about Jack yet, though. First she wanted to know if he was getting any better. "Were you able to see the specialist today?" He had had a series of follow up appointments scheduled, but the waiting periods were very long.

"Oh yes. Patrice is great. She knows everyone in town. All it took was one phone call, ten minutes in the waiting room, and I was in. I wonder if doctors and nurses also have a magic badge like we do. You know, when you want to skip the line at the coffee shop?" He said, attempting to bring a bit of humor to the conversation. He didn't really want to talk about doctors. It seemed that their solution to his problem was " _Let's wait and see,_ " and he hated it. His patience couldn't deal with it right now, and he wanted a real resolution. Andy felt miserable and irritated after a long day in many different hospitals with so few answers, but it wouldn't be fair to take her with him down that rabbit hole.

"Don't I know it? You made an art form out of it."

"I don't believe, not for a second, that you never flashed your badge for personal reasons. You can deny it all you want, but I'll stand my ground with this one."

"You think you know me that well... hm?"

"I'm not revealing my sources."

"Sources?"

"Mhm, you know I've spent a little bit of time with your kid now, so I might have learned some things about you." He made the most innocent face that she'd ever seen on him, which earned a small chuckle from her.

"Well, I will make sure to talk to Nicole about you, and soon I might add." She knew Rusty would never betray her confidence, as for Ricky, well, that was another topic.

"Go ahead. She is out of the country anyway, and the reception is terrible there." He even slid his phone toward her, daring her to do so.

"I will try to remember that," she said with a grin. Then, becoming serious, she asked, "What did the doctor say?" As much as she wanted to spend the evening joking, she needed to know.

"That I need more tests to find the right pill for breaking down the clot, and then we'll need to wait and see if it works."

"The ones you're taking now aren't working? You don't feel any better?"

The questions left her mouth in such a hurry that he had a hard time following. He could sense that she was starting to freak out again, and he wanted to avoid it. Talking about his health issues always made her panicky and she would worry, fuss even, biting her lower lip and making him want to kiss it, as she looked at him with her bright green eyes. He wanted to make all of her worries go away; she deserved better than this. He took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"No, I feel fine. They just want to make sure the pills don't do more harm than good, and for the time being, they want me to just sit tight. Sharon, please don't worry about it."

"I won't," she said simply without offering any kind of argument. She let her thumb slide against his palm. His skin was cold and sharp to the touch, the result of sitting too long in the night air. She relished the feel of her hand in his, however, it being the only touch they were allowed right now.

"Did you eat? I made the pasta you like, with fresh veggie pesto. Patrice had to go to the market, so I asked her to pick up some groceries for us." Maybe changing the topic would do them both some good, he thought.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to do that. The doctor said..."

"I know what the doctor said," his tone was suddenly clipped as a rapid flash of anger crossed his eyes. He withdrew his hand from her grasp and put it near his mug, "but I can't just lay down all day, it makes me crazy. Besides the kid liked it too, even if there was no meat in it." His breathing increased, and his heart started to beat at an accelerated pace, his blood pressure rising. This was not going the way he wished. His temper was getting the best of him. He wasn't an invalid. Cooking a dinner for three was not a hardship. It was the least he could do for them anyway. He never wanted to be a drain on her or the kid. If he was going to stay there, he would contribute as much as he could. He thought he already had made that clear to her. Andy took a long breath before he continued, "by the way, did you tell him you're here? He was waiting to see you before he left. He said something about the library."

"Yes, he already left." Sharon waited a moment for him to settle down. She understood his frustration. Probably in his situation, being constantly monitored and asked the same questions over and over, she wouldn't be so wonderful to be around herself. "Andy, I appreciate that you cook for me. I do, truly. It's wonderful to come home to a delicious meal, but please, take what your doctors are telling you seriously. You have a blood clot in your carotid artery. It's not something you can just dismiss. Don't fight it." She took his hand again. It was warmer this time. She wasn't sure if it was the result of the tea or his rising temper. Either way, if he needed an outlet for his frustration, she could help him with that. She would be there for him in any way that he needed. She knew that he was a man of action, and sitting around with nothing to do would simply aggravate him, but this was not a matter to be taken lightly. She would stand her ground with him; his health was her top priority.

"I am trying." He said it so weakly, through gritted teeth, that it pained her physically to not be able to comfort him in the way she craved. She was well aware how her body reacted to him.

Action and reaction was one of the laws of physics that she understood only too well. Sharon felt it every time his mood became sour, hers would follow. When he got so angry that the vein in his neck became visible, her body instinctively would try to calm him, to protect him from his ire. On the other hand, when he was at peace and looked at her with so much vivid emotion, trying to channel everything he felt into one gaze, it made her feel more than alive, like she was floating off the ground simply by looking and smiling at him. His small touch on her skin not only burned her flesh through his fingers, but at the same time it made her feel so cherished. His kisses, deep and sensual, spilled liquid arousal all over her being. How could she not react to him? So, when he was in such a lost state, it pained her soul not to be able to soothe him.

Sharon let her eyes sweep the view of the city below her. It was a beautiful view, the sun fading, now barely visible on the horizon. Sitting on her balcony usually had a comforting effect on her, but somehow it wasn't working tonight. She bit the inside of her cheek and took a breath before broaching the next subject.

" _Andy_ ," her voice hitched when saying his name. She detested the fact that she would be adding more distress to him, but they needed to address the topic of Jack.

"Yeah...Provenza called. They all know."

"I'm afraid so, yes, Jack made sure of it," she said with sadness and regret in her light tone.

His jaw clenched at the sound of Sharon's ex-husband's name and his stomach began to turn. The asshole managed to screw him and to put her in an awkward position at the same time. She had to explain herself to the others and to Taylor. The worst of it was that it was his own fault. He wasn't even there to prevent it. This was also a reason for his frustration, being so helpless where Jack was concerned, and giving him ammunition to hurt her more. Damn it, if this wasn't hard.

"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later," he said. He just wished he would have had more time to deal with it himself, to let his mind wrap around it, to understand all the medical jargon and implications before he would have had to face the squad. Before he would have had to talk about his weakness.

"I am sorry," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she stated with more determination, "I will talk to Emily about this. This was unacceptable of her, and it was not any of her business to share..."

"Don't." he cut her off. "Don't call her on my account. It was sort of her business. You are her mother and you had to take me in because of my health issues. You can't prevent her from talking to her own father. I won't let you do that." As much as he despised Jack and wanted him to pay for what he did, Andy didn't want to cause a rift between a father and his daughter. He simply couldn't do that. When Sharon seemed confused by his reaction he continued, "It would not be fair to tell Emily what to share with her father. At least they are talking. He has a relationship with her, and I don't want to change that. I'm not worth all this fighting among all of you anyway." As much as it pained him to admit it, he almost envied Jack for having his daughter's devotion. Andy had to struggle so much to earn Nicole's trust back, and his son was still wary of him. He would be a total hypocrite if he caused any problems between Emily and Jack. He might be a sarcastic ass, but he was not a heartless son of a bitch.

"But he used her to hurt you and me," she added miserably. She couldn't help feeling guilty for this mess. It was her kid and her ex-husband who caused it. Sharon really wished Emily would simply know better, although she couldn't really blame her. Jack had a way with obtaining information. He did it with Rusty, God only knows how many times he used Ricky when he was younger and easily influenced, and now he was playing the same tricks on her little girl.

"Yeah, but we already knew what kind of a dirt bag he is. I'm only sorry he had to drag Emily into this. First class bastard."

"Oh you have no idea." She murmured the words under her breath.

Andy's eyes wandered to their joined hands on the table. Her thumb never stopped moving across his skin, with slow strokes on his palm, knuckles, wrist, all the spaces she could reach, trying to be soothing. The physical connection between them was a bond that he didn't want to break. It was already so limited, and now it was only a whisper of a presence. He'd missed her in these last couple of days. Working beside her, talking to her, taking her to dinner, it had been entirely too long since they'd done any of those things. They were so close, and yet there was a distance between them. He blamed himself for that. Guilt was a feeling he was very accustomed to. He felt guilty for being an absent father, for being a careless husband and a lousy drunk, but never would he have imagined he would feel it beside her. The thought of it made him ache so much it stole his breath. He wanted to be better for her, because letting her go wasn't an option, not unless he wanted to rip his heart from his own chest. Andy took her hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips, in a slow caress, kissed the back of it, then he turned it and touched the center of her palm, nibbling lightly at the soft spot. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and the tension between them was felt deep within. He knew she was affected by what Jack did; she always hurt more when her children were involved. He tried to bring some lightness to the moment.

"I heard he speaks French now."

"Yes," she smiled at him and gently cupped his cheek, grazing her fingers behind his earlobe, "but don't worry, it's just a phase. He passed through an Italian one few years ago. It didn't last, of course, but I had to endure his _ciao bella_ and _arrivederci tesoro_ with every phone call we had."

"So what's next? German?" Andy asked, amused and enjoying watching her snort and double-over in laughter.

"Oh gosh, I only hope he will spare us from hearing him try to speak German, that would be just..." she could not finish because the mere thought of her Jackass ex-husband attempting to speak that language made her laugh even more.

"I think the worst part was the smell of cheap perfume. I honestly don't know where he finds these women." The smell always gave her a migraine and brought back the memories that she thought she'd buried deep down. It still hurt, but with Andy near it was easier to face. Sharon locked her eyes with his and a surge of emotions filled her. He did it again. With his words, with his care, he made her feel better, lighter, and whole. The irritation was gone, her heart fluttered in her chest, and she couldn't stop a silly smile from spreading across her face. She didn't really want to stop it, honestly. She wanted him so much.

Sharon rose from her chair and with few short steps she reached where he was seated. His legs were drawn in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Didn't he say that the doctor forbade him to sit with his legs crossed? She uncrossed his ankles and spread his legs, giving him a small glare. He sat up, making room for her. After a day like this, she couldn't deal with having all these barriers between them. She stepped between his knees, tentatively placing her hands on each shoulder, applying very little pressure on his tight muscles. His body was tense but responsive to her touch. Andy groaned from pleasure and pain, and his hands landed on her hips, thumbs caressing her hipbones.

She finally could breathe. He finally could rest.

Andy tugged at her hips and made her step a little closer to him, her skirt bunched up while she moved between his thighs."Well..." he rumbled quietly, sliding his hands under her jacket and moving them unhurriedly up to her waist, teasing her ticklish sides as he went, until he reached the outline of her breasts, "you will never have to worry about that with me."

Sharon's breath caught, and her heart beat faster than ever before. She was sure he could feel it while holding her so tightly. She relished in the sensation of his hands roaming over her body; she let it envelop her whole, the heat, the longing, the pleasure. Her hands moved from his shoulders up his neck and to his face, caressing the strong bone of his jaw, and framing his cheeks in both of her palms, making him look at her. She shook her head at him and whispered, "No, I really don't."

Andy Flynn may have been many things in his past, she knew so much about his shortcomings, wrote reports about them, but of one thing she was sure; he would never cheat on her. It was that simple.

" _Sharon,_ " her name was a silent plea on his lips, lips that she wanted to make hers.

She leaned forward and brushed his mouth with a ghost of a touch, leaving them both breathless. While she breathed him in, his tongue slipped between her lips and caressed her trembling bottom plum. She moaned into his mouth while her knees buckled underneath her, revealing all her neediness. His hands steadied her and their kiss deepened, till they both couldn't hold back anymore and they let the anticipation of growing passion inflame them whole. It felt like coming home. It felt like living.

When the need for air became overwhelming, she placed her cheek to his temple and breathed deeply, engraving in her memory the feeling of him, warm and alive.

"I've missed you. I've missed us," she said quietly, letting him on a secret that she had been holding onto for too long.

"Me, too. It won't get any easier." He wished it would.

"No, but we won't give up." She came to face him again. Her eyes were moist, but there was so much serenity in her expression, it made him smile.

"Never," he let their lips meet again. He kissed her, this time slower, this time harder, this time fiercely.

"Andy, I'm here, what do you need?" She had found her anchor, with him by her side she was able to function again. She would be just fine, but he still was restless. She saw it in his eyes, the burden of this situation never really leaving him.

Andy considered her. There were so many overwhelming thoughts that swam through his head: his health, his job, the squad, Jack and his way of hurting her, Rusty and their fragile relationship, and of course Sharon, at the center of it all. He needed to feel grounded again. He needed to find the strength to fight. "I need a meeting," he admitted honestly.

She tipped his face toward her so that he was meeting her eyes, "Good. Let's go." And with that she straightened her posture and extended her hand to him. He was reluctant, so she tugged at his wrist and helped him stand. "Come on. Let's change, and I will drive."

"Okay." It was the only thing he could say. He went ahead of her. It would take him longer to change. He was still healing, and his bruised ribs made him slower in his movements.

Sharon watched him leave as she gathered the two mugs and the other items that were left on the table. Night had settled on Los Angeles, and she let her gaze sweep one more time across her view of the city, this time feeling all the calm in the world. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They would be fine, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

A while later, Andy found her changed and ready, waiting for him as she leaned against the wall opposite Rusty's room, picking at her nails distractedly. He approached her putting his hands on her shoulders, and her hands instinctively gripped his forearms in a tight squeeze. Her head lifted and he lowered his, placing his forehead against hers. They breathed the same air of anticipation.

"This is not on you. He is an ass. We will be fine." His voice was measured and serious. He meant every word. Before she could answer him, he covered her mouth with his, swallowing every silent sound she made. Her chest was filled with so many vivacious emotions that she had thought she would never experienced again, at least not this late in her life. Through her closed eyes, a few tears fell freely, and his lips caught every single one of them.

"For the record, you are worth fighting for." She whispered the words, imprinting them on his lips. One thing was made clear to her this past few days, the feelings she had for him had grown so much, taking over her heart. She was willing to fight everyone for him.

They felt like they had been hit by a tornado these past few days. The tornado could have been Jack, or it could have been life itself that had tried to bring them down and maybe even divide. They were still standing, though, and together they could face any storm that life would throw at them. She trusted him completely, and he loved her wordlessly. Not even the laws of physics themselves could break their bond.

* * *

 _As always... Thank You for your patience, kindness and for reading._

 _Happy Shandy Sunday y'all :)_


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